Sleep a poem by Walter de la Mare

When all, and birds, and creeping beasts,When the dark of night is deep,From the moving wonder of their livesCommit themselves to sleep.

Without a thought, or fear, they shutThe narrow gates of sense;Heedless and quiet, in slumber turnTheir strength to impotence.

The transient strangeness of the earthTheir spirits no more see:Within a silent gloom withdrawn,They slumber in secrecy.

Two worlds they have--a globe forgot,Wheeling from dark to light;And all the enchanted realm of dreamThat burgeons out of night.

Sleep a poem by Walter de la Mare

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